The Librarian
by MizJoely
Summary: Why the TARDIS so frequently ends up in unexpected places. A bit of 7th Dr and Ace goofiness from my personal archives, written around 1990. Enjoy!


_Image for this story is from 1990's __fanzine "Robots, Reblels & Renegades", artwork rendered by David Koukol & Scott Springer. Props, guys!_

_A/N: I own nothing but the title character and profit from his presence only by basking in the kind reviews I receive for this fic._

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"Well, I'm all done, sir," a voice came unexpectedly from behind the Doctor and Ace. Both of them whirled to face the door that led from the console room to the remainder of the TARDIS, twin looks of surprise and confusion on their faces.

Facing them, blinking owlishly from behind a pair of ridiculously large, wire-framed glasses, was an unassuming young man with short brown hair and features usually described by police officers as "medium". He looked expectantly at the Doctor. "Will that be all?" he asked.

The Doctor continued to stare at the young man blankly, while Ace turned to look suspiciously at her fellow traveller. "Will what be all?" the Time Lord finally asked.

The stranger took off his glasses and began cleaning them nervously on the edge of his baggy, tan sweater. "Do you need me to do anything else? I'm all finished back there." He jerked a thumb in the direction of the TARDIS interior.

"Doing what?" Ace exclaimed in exasperation. "Who are you?"

The young man-he looked no more than 20 to Ace's eyes-blinked once again and put the glasses back on. "I'm the librarian," he replied, as if that should explain everything. He looked back at the Doctor in some confusion of his own. "You had me cleaning up your library-putting everything on computer, cross-indexing all your data, updating files-don't you remember? Or maybe it's the regeneration," he added, glancing down at himself. "I decided I needed a change a few years ago. A frivolous reason to regenerate, I admit, but I was beginning to get bored-"

Recognition was beginning to dawn on the Doctor's face, along with some small embarrassment. "Of course," he said. "The librarian. Gallifrey."

The librarian nodded. "You told me to straighten everything up as the final project of my internship. I'm ready for you to review it."

Ace was looking back and forth between the two Time Lords-as she assumed the librarian to be, since he came from Gallifrey and why didn't anyone from that blasted planet have a _real_ name, anyway?-as if they were two sides of a very confusing tennis match. "Now wait a minute," she objected. They both turned to look at her inquisitively. "You mean to tell me you've been on the TARDIS all along? Since the Doctor pinched it?"

The Doctor looked offended. "I did _not_ 'pinch' the TARDIS! I-appropriated it. And my young friend here happens to be a student at the Academy, under my tutelage."

"In multi-dimensional library sciences," the object of this description interjected.

"So you pinched the TARDIS _and_ a student at the Academy?" Ace's voice and expression were beyond incredulous by now, into the nether realms of exaggerated patience known as "the calm before the storm."

"Now really, I do object to your use of the term 'pinched'," the Doctor replied severely. "The library in this TARDIS has needed updating simply forever. And Mesch here-" he patted the younger man on the shoulder "-was, indeed, selected to do the work as a final project."

_So he _did_ have a name!_ Ace thought triumphantly, while at the same moment adding a sarcastic: "And you completely forgot he was here," to the Doctor's statement.

"Well, I've been busy," was the Time Lord _without_ a name's defensive response.

"And so have I," the librarian-Mesch-rushed to defend his mentor. "He told me to do whatever was necessary to finish my project. And by the way, Doctor," he added, "I had to do quite a bit of independent research and confirmation in order to get the level of upgrade you requested. I think that's something you should consider in your grading." His expression turned smug.

"What kind of 'independent research and confirmation'?" the Doctor asked suspiciously.

"Well, you know. You told me to do whatever I had to do to get the job done correctly. So I did."

"What exactly does _that_ mean?" Ace exploded, her patience finally at an end. The Doctor seemed to know, since he turned a nearly perfect shade of crimson at Mesch's words, but since Ace had long since gotten used to almost never receiving answers from her travelling companion, she addressed her question to the librarian.

"It means exactly what I said," he answered. The Doctor was whistling unsteadily in an attempt to appear unconcerned as Mesch continued: "I was given carte blanche to do whatever was necessary to complete the assignment. So, when I needed to do a little research, I used the auxiliary controls-"

"And sent the TARDIS where you needed to go?" Ace finished incredulously. Mesch simply nodded, glancing uncertainly at the Doctor as Ace's expression became murderous. She turned her glare on her travelling companion-the one she'd been aware of, anyway-who had casually strolled away from her immediate vicinity. "Doctor," she said sweetly.

"Er, yes?" he asked brightly, maneuvering himself behind the console and nearer the door controls.

"Doctor," Ace repeated, still in the sweet tone that the Doctor knew meant trouble with a capital "T". "You mean to tell me, that every time the TARDIS ended up somewhere different than where we expected to go-and every time it went someplace different than where you and your _other_ companions expected it to go-every single time that happened, it was because the _librarian_ was driving?"

"Well, it might be something like that," he agreed cautiously, stepping back defensively as Ace stalked around the console after him. "I seem to recall giving Mesch the code, so he wouldn't have to interrupt his studies-"

Mesch stared in astonishment at the sight of his teacher being chased around the console by the young woman who had been questioning him so closely. The language coming from her lips didn't bear close listening, he decided, and quietly opened the door to the interior of the TARDIS. Maybe it would be best if he did a little more double-checking on his final project. He disappeared once again, wincing once at the sound of something heavy being slammed against the wall-what, he refused to speculate.

After all, discretion _was_ the better part of valor.


End file.
